


Blue Aster

by boldlygoingnowherefast



Series: the many miles we walk [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22863595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boldlygoingnowherefast/pseuds/boldlygoingnowherefast
Summary: After everything, Charles and Arthur find some time alone.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Series: the many miles we walk [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643497
Comments: 4
Kudos: 154





	Blue Aster

**Author's Note:**

> Lol hello friends, I'm back. This fic takes place a few months after the events of [Come and Lay by My Side](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21710416), though you don't necessarily need to read that to enjoy this--it simply provides some context. 
> 
> This is mostly just smut lmao.

Summer in Washington is nothing like the sticky, oppressive heat of Lemoyne, and Arthur finds himself outside by the lake more often than not, happy to simply breathe the fresh air and continue to bask in the freedom that’s only a few months old. Arthur enjoys sitting by the lake so much that he brought a chair out here for that very purpose, and though Arthur and Charles have talked about building a dock so they can fish and enjoy the water, the chair will do for now.

“Uncle Arthur!”

Arthur turns his head to see young Jack barreling towards him, a bunch of flowers clenched carefully in his right hand. “Look what I found!”

“Show me what you got this time.”

Jack stops in front of him and holds out the handful of purple flowers.

“Do you know what these are called?” Arthur asks.

Jack shakes his head.

“These flowers are called aster. Mighty pretty, if you ask me.”

Jack smiles, and Arthur thinks about how he’s doing that a lot more than he used to, now that he’s got a steady roof over his head and parents who spend most of their time calm and happy. “You know so much about flowers, Uncle Arthur.”

“They’re nice to look at, and sometimes it’s important to stop and look at something pretty.”

“You’re silly,” Jack replies, nose scrunching.

“That I am, but I think you agree with me, don’t you? You seem to like those flowers.”

“I do like flowers,” Jack says and bounces lightly on his heels.

“Jack, there you are,” comes John’s voice. He steps up beside them. “We’re running into town. You want to ride in the wagon?”

Jack lights up. “Yes, Pa, I do!”

John turns to Arthur. “Hosea, Abigail, and I are running into town. You interested?”

Arthur shakes his head. “Nah thanks. You have fun.”

“Come on, Jack,” John says, holding out his hand. Jack takes it and the two of them head towards the house together.

Arthur is alone only a little while before he hears footsteps and a hand lands on his shoulder. “The weather is beautiful today,” Charles says. “You have the right idea, sitting out here.”

Arthur turns and looks up at Charles, marvels at the soft curves of his features as he looks out across the lake.

“The weather may be beautiful, but I’m looking at something even more beautiful.”

Charles looks down at him, and though he’s heard plenty of Arthur’s foolish lines, his face still creases in an incredulous smile.

“You think that’s gonna work on me?” he asks.

“I know it does,” Arthur replies, and counts it as a victory when Charles leans down and places a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. He pulls away, but only enough to lean close to Arthur’s ear. “We have the house to ourselves for once. What do you say we take advantage of that?”

A shiver runs down Arthur’s spine. “You have the best ideas, Mister Smith.”

Charles’ hand curls around his wrist and helps tug him to his feet. Together, they make their way to the quiet lake house. As soon as they step through the back door, Charles turns and crowds him against the living room wall.

Charles’ mouth is soft and hot against his own, and Arthur melts into the kiss, hands grabbing at Charles’ belt and pulling him closer. This part of their relationship is not brand new, but it’s still novel, and Arthur revels in the feel of Charles against him, the strong line of his body and his bold touches. Arthur sees every day with Charles as a gift, and he’s certainly not going to squander it.

Charles’ mouth slides across his jaw, and Arthur’s hand finds the soft cascade of Charles’ hair as he bares his throat to Charles’ mouth.

Arthur’s voice is low and raspy when he speaks. “If I had known back then that your mouth was as sweet as your words, I would have kissed you much earlier.”

Charles pushes a thigh between Arthur’s and Arthur gasps at the friction.

“Who says I would have let you?” he asks against the skin of Arthur’s throat.

“I’m not calling you easy,” Arthur replies. “I would have courted you proper-like, just like you deserve.”

Charles pulls back enough to look Arthur in the eye. “Can we save the hypotheticals for later?”

Arthur laughs. “Sorry. Come here.”

Charles kisses him again and slides a hand to the buttons of Arthur’s shirt and begins undoing them easily.

Arthur breaks the kiss. “Bedroom? My knees ain’t what they used to be.”

Charles smiles and tugs Arthur towards their room by a hand around his wrist.

_Their room. Their house._ Arthur is still getting used to the feeling of it in his mind.

Charles pushes him onto the edge of the bed and starts working on getting his boots off.

They no longer live the life of gun belts and holsters and hidden knives, and though it speaks of peace, Arthur also appreciates it for how much it speeds up the process of undressing in moments like these. Arthur isn’t even impatient by the time Charles eases himself to the bed and pulls Arthur close.

By this point, their urgency has reduced to a low simmer, and Arthur finds he doesn’t mind. He kisses Charles slowly, reveling in the slide of their mouths, and when he rolls so Charles is under him, Charles goes easily.

Charles is so lovely with his hair fanned out on the pillow, looking up at Arthur with dark eyes and lips parted on heavy breaths.

Arthur rolls his hips and watches the pleasure flicker on Charles’ features.

“Tell me what you want,” Arthur says.

“Just like this,” Charles replies, and his hand goes to the small of Arthur’s back to coax him into another roll that has them both gasping.

Arthur braces one arm close to Charles’ head so he can lean in and kiss him while they move together. His other hand finds Charles’ and laces their fingers together on the bed, an anchor in this sea of feeling.

Heat builds between them until Arthur can feel sweat rolling down the back of his neck and gathering in the hollow of his throat. Charles’ forehead shines with it, and Arthur kisses it off the curve of his upper lip.

Like this, the build is slow and aching and has them both panting into the space between their mouths. The tide carries them up and up, gradual but inevitable.

_“Arthur,”_ Charles groans, burying a hand in Arthur’s hair and arching upwards. Arthur kisses him through his climax, and when Charles wraps a broad, hot hand around him, he follows Charles over the edge with a heavy gasp.

Arthur slides off him, and they both catch their breath in the afternoon sunlight that streams through the window.

“How do we convince them all to go on more shopping trips together?” Arthur asks as he stares up at the ceiling. “This was a lot more fun knowing they wouldn’t overhear us.” He glances over at Charles, who is turned to face him with a small grin on his face.

“I convinced John to go with them and to take Jack,” Charles confesses. “I think he was suspicious, but he agreed.”

Arthur laughs and rolls onto his side so he can lean in and kiss Charles, slow and sweet. “I always underestimate how clever you are.”

“I have good motivation,” he replies. He pulls Arthur closer until Arthur tucks his head under Charles’ chin.

The doze off like that, for a little while.

By the time the others come back, they are clean and dressed, sitting at the kitchen table sharing a pot of coffee. If John’s look is a little bit too knowing, Arthur doesn’t find it in himself to mind. He presses his ankle to Charles’ under the table and opens his journal to a new page.

A small bundle of aster goes in the corner, unassuming but full of feeling.


End file.
